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“Actually, he was a Great Pyrenees.”
“Here, let me help you. Don’t use your hands—one of these dry towels would be far better,” Ms. Ferrer said, as she expertly began brushing off the fur caught on Lucie’s ruffles.
“Oh, wow. How did you know that would work?”
“I was a photo editor at Life magazine for more than a decade, my dear. We had to deal with every conceivable issue on our shoots.”
“It’s so nice of you to come to Mom’s fund-raiser. I didn’t realize Mom even told anyone in the building about her event.”
“She didn’t. It was Mrs. Zao who did such a good job of convincing me to come out for the gala.”
“Rosemary’s here tonight?” Lucie said, quietly alarmed.
“I haven’t seen her yet, but I assume she’s coming.”
“How is her application to live in the building coming along?” Lucie knew she shouldn’t be asking, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Oh, I can’t talk about that. These applications are strictly confidential.”
“Sorry.”
Ms. Ferrer leaned in. “But I will tell you—entre nous—your mother really surprised us.”
“How so?” Lucie asked, getting a bit nervous.
“She submitted a grossly inappropriate recommendation letter.”
“Really?” Lucie felt a sudden pang of fear.
“Yes, it was the most hilarious letter, a brilliant practical joke. I almost lost my mind reading it! Everyone on the board was rolling on the floor! Who knew your mother could be so funny? Which reminds me, I still need to thank her for it.”
Suddenly overcome with the panic of not only her mother discovering her fake co-op letter, but her whole plan misfiring, Lucie found herself blurting out, “Ms. Ferrer, there are some things I think you ought to know about Rosemary Zao!”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“She’s not the woman you think she is.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t your families very close?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it that. Rosemary has been trying to cultivate my mother all summer, and as you know, Mom just tries to be polite to everyone.”
“She does, doesn’t she? Your mother is very polite.”
“If you must know, Mrs. Zao is very social—when I first met her in Italy, she told me about all the wild parties she used to go to in Lan Kwai Fong,” Lucie said, taking her own liberties with the truth.
“What’s Lan Kwai Fong?”
“It’s the red-light district of Hong Kong.”*1
“My goodness! Was Rosemary one of those Suzie Wong party girls?”
“I don’t know what that is, but she did party. She partied very hard.”
“I can’t even imagine. She seems so fastidious and well put together. I love her understated elegance.”
“Let me show you something, Ms. Ferrer.” Lucie took out her phone and found a group photo she had taken at the Peking duck dinner. She zoomed in on Rosemary striking a flamboyant pose in one of her signature rainbow-colored sequined caftans.
“That’s Mrs. Zao?” Ms. Ferrer stared at the screen in disbelief.
